Frederik carries the grimoire in a carpet bag,
heaving it out at apposite moments,
popping the hasp on the bronze cover
and reading from whatever page
clutches his fancy.
'Lobe fiddler!' The epithet hangs
in the cold, dry air
of the playgroup. 'Meringue fancier!'
The reprimanding forefinger
trembling with opprobrium.
'Tiny stallion! Knob mushroom!
Carp smeller! Many-fingered bottom picker!'
Leafing through yellowed pages,
licking his thick digits.
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